


Lettuce

by zenonaa



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 01:52:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3551627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mukuro goes out to eat with Ishimaru. As long as she remembers what Junko taught her, the outing should run smoothly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lettuce

Mukuro stood outside the school gates, hands clasped together in front of her. She lost count of how many times she reassured herself that the date would go well, and the reassurances quivered in her chest and hummed in her head as a constant. There was no need for her to fret, she knew that, not when Junko had whispered in her ear that Mukuro would succeed because she couldn’t fail, she wasn’t allowed, as Junko styled Mukuro’s hair with chattering fingernails in front of a vanity.

Though Junko had never let Mukuro date someone before, Mukuro had come to her anyway and asked for permission like a good sister should, and Junko had said,

“Okay.” She heated another curl into Mukuro’s dark, limp hair. “I might be able to add a few streaks of ooh, but not even I could crimp any sexy into you. Just act like I would, ‘kay?”

Taking a deep breath, Mukuro wrested her mobile phone from a snug pocket in her snug leather shorts. Five minutes remained until the arranged meeting time. She put her phone back. The sleeve of her red cardigan slipped down her arm, hiding her hand from view with its length.

“Ikusaba-kun!” came a voice from behind.

Mukuro swiveled around with reflexes fast enough for a soldier to survive on a battlefield.

Kiyotaka flinched at the mobile phone in her hand that she had nearly thrust into his face. He blinked, crossing his eyes to look at it.

She realised that she wasn’t holding a gun and he wasn’t an enemy. Her hand dropped to her side along with her gaze. The cluster of folds at her elbow smoothed out.

“I apologise for startling you like that,” said Kiyotaka, glancing at her hand.

“It’s no big deal,” she said, unsure why he apologised when she was the one who almost punched him in the face.

He cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. “Yes, well, we should be heading off now, hm? We don’t want to fall behind schedule. Allow me to escort you to the café that we arranged to visit.”

Kiyotaka offered his hand.

“I know the way.” Mukuro tightened her hold on her phone. “Let’s just go, all right?”

His hand sagged. “Of... Of course! I didn’t mean to suggest... Again, I’m sorry.”

They departed from the school gate together, keeping abreast, and she wondered why he had apologised again. After all, she was the one who snapped at him in a rude tone of voice. Junko had trained her to know when to apologise and how to interpret different kinds of silent treatment.

Her shoulders hunched.

“Your outfit is different to what you normally wear,” Kiyotaka noted, looking her way.

Mukuro’s bare thighs grazed together.

“Junko-chan picked it out for me,” she blurted. She cringed.

He tilted his head to one side, taking in more of her appearance.

“On your top,” he said, slightly puzzled. “The writing. It says...?”

“Never give up.”

“What? Ikusaba-kun, are you telling a little joke?” Kiyotaka cracked a grin. “It says ‘Lettuce’.”

Her face flushed with heat. “I-It does? Seriously?”

Then again, this sounded like a prank that Junko would play. Mukuro touched her hand to her cheek, hoping hot humiliation wasn’t melting her makeup off that Junko had spent ages perfecting. Whenever Mukuro tried to apply makeup by herself, she always ended up resembling a clown or a tree. Junko always needed to do it for her.

“I assure you that I am serious,” he said, brow creasing. “But... you weren’t serious too... were you?”

She wrapped her arms around herself. The heels of her stilettos clacked against the pavement, substituting conversation. Learning how to walk in them without falling over took her a while. Junko insisted that Mukuro needed to know how to walk in heels because walking in heels would be important in later life.

“We’re here,” said Mukuro, turning her body and pushing open the door of the café. While her back was toward Kiyotaka for a few precious seconds, she breathed deep, silent breaths. Kiyotaka stepped forward and led her to a table in the corner, asking what she wanted to eat before disappearing for a few minutes. She twiddled her thumbs.

He brought back royal milk tea and lunch was soon served.

“Are you enjoying your meal?” he asked after a few failed attempts at starting a conversation, lifting a shrimp spring roll to his mouth.

Mukuro rolled the skewer of her yakitori between her thumb and forefinger.

“It’s super,” she said, nibbling a bell pepper. She swallowed and smiled like Junko would. “Super awesome, right?”

“Super... awesome.” Kiyotaka considered the words and then mirrored Mukuro’s smile, only his was genuine. He let out a laugh. “Yes, that it is! Super awesome! Good one, Ikusaba-kun!”

When he lowered his gaze, she dropped the smile.

“This is pleasant, isn’t it?” he said, starting his next spring roll. A bit of chilli sauce stained a fingernail shape onto his chin, matching the colour of his eyes. “I feared that you might turn down my offer. You’re not one for these sorts of activities, are you?”

The bell pepper crunched between her teeth.

“Neither am I,” he admitted. “You see, Ikusaba-kun, I’ve been told that my school title, my appearance and my behaviour are off-putting. I’m apparently tiring to be around. Intimidating to some, even.”

She stared at him.

He carried on. “Yes, it’s quite disheartening. I thought perhaps that you might understand because you too don’t have many... friends.”

Mukuro flinched. “What are you talking about? Junko-chan is my friend.”

“Of course she is,” he said, and he probably meant it, but Mukuro found herself glaring.

“Yes, she is,” said Mukuro, snapping her skewer in her fist. She splayed out her hand to see the splintered damage within. “Junko-chan is my best friend. No one could replace her.”

Kiyotaka nodded but rather than pacify her, each jerk of his head rattled between her ears.

“I’m serious,” she insisted.

“I know,” he said. “And I admire your dedication, Ikusaba-kun.”

Mukuro tensed. “W-What?”

His face seemed earnest. So different to Junko’s. “Your dedication to your dreams and your sister, and the hard work that you pour into what you love, what you live for, is incredible and a sight worth seeing! I feel your passion, Ikusaba-kun, and wish to share in it with you.”

She widened her eyes. Biting her lip, she averted her gaze and said, “You’re full of hot air.”

But she smiled anyway.


End file.
